A Dozen Or So Days
by Fordanoia
Summary: How Ford went through their first birthday after Stan had gotten kicked out of the house.


After the science fair there wasn't that much of high school left. He spent more of his time trying to find any universities or scholarships with a deadline that hadn't passed rather than anything else. Eventually, he gave up on that search entirely. After all, Backupsmore was probably better than what his classmates' conversations made it out to be.

Graduation came with a swell of pride and a bitterness that Ford tried to ignore, just for this day, at least. A couple of days later though, Ford quickly realized he had nothing to do.

He had already cleaned through his school supplies and done everything short of actually packing for college in the fall. If he had the option he would move to campus then and there.

It was actually rather frustrating when he had spent nearly two days with a pervading uncertainty of what to do. He'd always had something! Between school and-... between school and spending time with Stanley, right.

Well, if anything the extra free time was a blessing. He could do whatever _he_ wanted.

Ford filled every second he had reading or doing nearly anything he could find. When he wanted to spend the entire day at the library there was nobody to pull him away from that, so he did. He actually spent nearly two weeks straight at the small library in town. He'd go in when it opened and stay until the very last minute, leaving the books behind on the table to pick back from the shelves the next day.

Around the twelfth day though he noticed the library staff was evidently growing frustrated with him. He couldn't imagine why though. Regardless, he decided to start checking out books to take home. Unfortunately, spending too long reading back in their- in _the_ bedroom made the space feel suffocating so he had to find more to do than just read.

A hard task considering he couldn't go to the beach, it was already bad enough occasionally having to walk on a sandy sidewalk now and then. There was no way he was going to put a foot on the beach itself. He also avoided the pier walk, obviously. Horror monster movies were out of the question now as well.

They were all just reminders of Stan so it was better avoided. He probably never enjoyed it in the first place, really.

Sand was coarse and would get stuck in his shoes. ̶I̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶w̶o̶r̶t̶h̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶g̶e̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶s̶i̶n̶k̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶f̶e̶e̶t̶ ̶i̶n̶t̶o̶ ̶w̶e̶t̶ ̶s̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶m̶i̶d̶d̶l̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶a̶ ̶h̶o̶t̶ ̶d̶a̶y̶.̶

The pier was just a wooden structure, nothing noteworthy. ̶T̶h̶e̶ ̶s̶i̶g̶h̶t̶ ̶f̶r̶o̶m̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶e̶n̶d̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶b̶o̶a̶r̶d̶w̶a̶l̶k̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶c̶a̶l̶m̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ ̶d̶o̶w̶n̶.̶

Then those movies were, more often than not, completely ridiculous. ̶H̶e̶'̶d̶ ̶p̶o̶i̶n̶t̶ ̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶i̶n̶a̶c̶c̶u̶r̶a̶c̶i̶e̶s̶ ̶o̶r̶ ̶S̶t̶a̶n̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶m̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶s̶n̶i̶d̶e̶ ̶c̶o̶m̶m̶e̶n̶t̶s̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶'̶d̶ ̶b̶o̶t̶h̶ ̶e̶n̶d̶ ̶u̶p̶ ̶l̶a̶u̶g̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶i̶t̶.̶

He was glad he didn't deal with any of that anymore.

One day, Ma had him babysit Shermie while she went out. She had seemed oddly excited and kept smiling at him, but what was really odd was how she lingered around before leaving, talking to him. Not that he minded, but the last time she'd really talked to him was at graduation. Since Shermie had been born she was always busy with him, on the phone, or otherwise doing something else.

When Ma came back he went upstairs, only to get called downstairs to the kitchen a few minutes later. Seeing the cake on the counter, he finally realized why Ma had been talking to him today.

"Happy Birthday, sweetie!" Ma said, pulling him to kiss him on the cheek. "My little boy's a man now! Aren'cha excited?"

It took him a few seconds to realize she was expecting a response. "Of course, Ma."

She gave him a hug and patted his arm, going over to the cake. She started talking, but Ford's mind quickly drifted off. Stan would have realized it was their birthday. He usually would bring it up a few times the week before. He had to be perfectly well aware what day it was... wherever he was, that is...

"Stanford."

Ford looked back over to her. "Hmm? Oh uh, yes, Ma?"

Her smile faltered slightly. "Ah, are ya thinking about aliens and all that science doohickey stuff again?"

"Yeah, sorry, Ma."

She reached over to lightly pinch his cheek. "Don't worry about it, Stanford. I raised you- I know how you get distracted." She went to light a candle on the cake.

Surprisingly, it was a new candle, not any of the reused ones they kept in the drawer. A colorful '18' with a single wick. In fact, now that Ford was actually looking at the cake he realized it was overall a bit fancier than the usual birthday cakes were. Ma had stopped baking the cakes when they'd turned 14 or so, opting instead to picking up cheap cakes from the grocery store.

This was still storebought, but it looked nicer than the usual discount birthday cake. The frosting didn't look stale and the design was overall a little better.

"I got you your favorite too, hon!" She said with a grin and a wink, pushing the cake into the center of the counter. "Chocolate!"

Ford felt himself stop at that.

Stan was the one that preferred chocolate.

"Sweetie?" She didn't know.

It took him a second to refocus. He put on a smile as he looked over to Ma. "It's great, Ma, thank you. I just... wasn't expecting you to get such a nice cake."

"It's your big 18, sweetie. It warrants a nicer cake! Don't you worry about it now."

He only responded with another smile in her direction. After taking a picture and Ford blowing out the candle, they cut into the cake. It was good, and Ford told her as much.

He finished off his slice even if it was too much chocolate for him. Marble cake had worked for so long because it was a compromise both him and Stan could tolerate. Stan couldn't finish even one slice of vanilla cake, and ordinarily, Ford wouldn't have even bothered taking a single bite if it was chocolate.

It wasn't her fault she'd forgotten who liked which flavor. It was an easy mistake to make. She was obviously trying to make this a nice birthday so Ford made to be much happier about it than he actually was.

He took the dishes over to the sink to clean them so he could go back upstairs as quickly as possible. However, he wasn't that lucky.

She proudly presented to him a birthday present inside a gift bag with tissue paper poking out from inside it. Another picture, and Ford was struggling to remember what a genuine smile was suppose to look like. It was difficult when every minute longer with the festivities he had to pretend he was enjoying himself and not thinking about Stan.

Occasionally, he'd feel a sour knot in his stomach and would smile harder out of spite. This was as much his birthday as it was Stan's so there was no reason to feel like he wasn't suppose to have any of this.

If Ma hadn't initially been trying to make this whole affair nice, she was _indefinitely_ doing so now. _He knew_ she was trying to give him a nice birthday, but the more she tried the more acutely hard it became for him to appear at ease. It especially didn't help when Ma called Pa into the room as well, to take a picture of course. At the very least, Pa didn't stay for long.

Ford took the first opportunity he could to thank Ma and go back up to his room before something else could come up. He kissed her on the cheek, and had one foot in the hallway before he even finished saying how tired he was.

The rest of the day he spent in their room, bitter and lonely. He tried to read, of course, but it didn't work. All he could think about was the empty bottom bunk and how stale the air in the room felt.

At one point, Ford briefly considered contacting Stan, but he got upset with himself the instant he even thought of it. Stan had purposefully sabotaged his future.

...Besides, he didn't have any way to reach him in the first place.

The next year, Ford worked on campus during the summer. As soon as the season started, he was acutely aware of every date. A day before their birthday, he received a letter and a small notebook in the mail from Ma.

The third year without Stan went similar.

His friend, Fiddleford, surprised him his fourth year. He wished him a happy birthday and gave him a nice die set along with some chocolate cupcake he must have gotten from the cafeteria.

He didn't know. How could he know when Ford hadn't told him anything?

Ford smiled and thanked him.

The cupcake went stale on their counter, and it took Ford a week or two before he finally tossed it into the trash.

The fifth and sixth years went by the easiest. Fidds didn't say anything about his birthday again, and he had plenty of work to keep his mind distracted.

The seventh year was his first year with his own phone. The day of, he had picked it up without thinking about it. It was only a few minutes conversation with Ma wishing him a happy birthday, but he still wished he had let the call go.

After that year, he vowed to never again answer the phone on June 15th.

The eighth year when his phone rang, he stopped what he had been doing and listened to it ring. He made very little process on his work the rest of that day.

Ford started to ensure he wasn't home during the day if he could help it. He wouldn't hear the phone ring at all if he was outside the house, after all.

He always wound up by the lake, regardless of whatever anomalies he originally planned on studying that day. Sometimes, he went to the lake right away and looked out over the water. Other times he started of the day with the intention of spending it in the woods or elsewhere. It didn't matter though, by midday he'd be sitting on the edge of the lake's short boardwalk or on its shore.

Ford was bitter about Stan's betrayal, but he would be lying if he said he didn't miss his brother. He could at least allow himself one day a year to let himself feel everything else tucked neatly underneath that bitterness. Maybe even reminiscence a little.

* * *

Ford smiled as he heard both his niblings and everyone else running around inside the house. Stanley and himself had been gently shoved out to the front porch to ensure there was no peeking as everyone worked inside.

"Awful lot of activity inside."

Stan gave a lighthearted scoff. "Yeah, sounds like the gremlins are really getting around in there. Nice thing about birthdays though? Nobody expects ya to clean up if it's yours."

"Should we be worried about the aftermath?"

"Come on, what's the worst that could happen."

"You're right." Ford consented. Whatever it was, Soos and Melody could handle it just fine.

There was a distant scream and a muffled voice yelling, "Put it out, put it out! Hurry!" Shortly after, however, there was the distinct sound of a fire extinguisher.

"Melody." Stan noted nonchalantly, taking a drink from his soda.

Ford nodded his head.

They fell into a pleasant silence, relaxing and listening to the sounds coming from inside the shack.

After a little while though, Stan started talking slowly, "Hey, you know what?"

"Hmm?" Ford turned to look to his brother who had a contemplative look on his face.

"You know, If we're the same age-"

"' _If_.'" Ford interjected, starting to smile.

Stan continued, nonplussed by Ford's interjection. "Then how come your hair is darker even though we're twins?"

"We have multiple slight variances in our appearances, not to mention my polydactylism, and you're questioning our hair pigment."

"Don't avoid the question, poindexter." Stan said, pointing to him. "Did'ja dye your hair or not?"

Ford grinned, swatting away the finger. "Yes, I dyed my hair a slightly darker grey just to spite you."

Stan snorted. "You know you say that like it's a joke, but I wouldn't have put it past you, honestly."

"That's fair." He agreed comfortably. "I still have time for that if I choose to do so later on though."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. I could make it the shade of an even _darker gray_."

The front door opened with a vocal fanfare from Mabel and kazoo accompaniment from Dipper.

With some pulling and general excitement, they were pulled to where the cake had been set out on the table.

"Presenting- Your birthday cake!" Mabel declared happily, showcasing the cake with her arms framing it. "A collaborative effort from all of us."

Ford smiled at the beautiful, if nearly monstrous, creation from his family. It was a tiered cake with extensive decoration. There were varying colors, a few figurines, glitter, and an extensive multitude of candles.

"There's a candle on there for every year or so." Dipper told them. "We had disagreements though so we just decided to take the average of all of our guesses."

"It looks like there's over eighty candles on there, kiddos." Stan said

"My guess was ninety something," Soos added, raising a hand.

It took them a minute or two to light all the candles, but they managed to do so without setting off any fire alarms. Once it was properly lit, they turned off the lights and everyone started to sing. In his younger years, Ford had indefinitely found the birthday song embarrassing, but hearing it come from everyone now it was so endearing that he didn't find himself minding at all. Maybe it was his old age making him sentimental.

After the pair of them blew out the candles, with some help after the first few blows didn't do it, they cut into the cake. Ford couldn't help laughing a bit when he took his first bite.

Banana cake.

Both Stan and himself went back for multiple slices though, despite the non-traditional flavor. Considering that fact, he considered it fair to say that their family had given them a far superior replacement to marble cake.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is MUCH later than it was originally because I frankly forgot to upload this on here when I finished it. Anyways though, happy birthday to my favorite pair of twins! Couldn't leave on that note of the beach though. I mean come on, it's their birthday after all. You can't be mean to people on their birthday.


End file.
